Gundam Seed: The Path to Bloody Valentine
by Dearing
Summary: People always remember the days of the Bloody Valentine war. They seem to forget about the tension of the months before, the small conflicts that now only exist as footnotes in history books. But I remember. Because I, Marcus Westfield, was there.
1. The Vanishing Serpent

Okay, this one may need som explaining, but if you'd rather read, just scroll down to the first page break.  
A while ago I started writing my own original Gundam series, Mobile Suit Gundam Eternal, and for a while it was all good. I felt the characters wern't Mary and gary Stu's, the suits were original...ish (A few inspirations from past mobile suits, but not enough to to instil copyright theft), and there was a few of reverances to past Gundam series which had inspired me (As is my custom when writing original fics)  
But after completing the eleventh chapter, I noticed something.  
Unlike Gundam, which most of the time has at least one mech fight per episode, my story had only three or four giant robot fights out of a total of eleven chapters. In fact, when I looked over it, I realised the layout was more similiar to that of Full Metal Panic then Gundam (Which is just as good I might add).  
I also felt that what gundam fighting there was seemed a little generic and identical.  
So I came up with an idea. To try and get over the fighting problem, I decided to try my hand at writing several fan fics based on series that had fights in them on a episode by episode basis (Sort of like what I did for Star Trek: Infinite Ryvius for example).  
The end results were my on-going Avatar: The Last Airbender fic: AVATAR: Last of the Black Core (Which itself was retreived from the remains of another fan-fic: Project Avatar) and this one.  
Mobile Suit Gundam MS Igloo is a pretty good series(I don't think they should dub it though, because english words would be hard to match up to thier japanese speaking mouths), and I thought, seeing as many think Gundam Seed is a remake of the original Gundam, why not take this small series and see what I could do with it?  
As to why I set it before Bloody Valentine, There arn't many fics that seem to be from that time, and I thought it'd be interesting to set it there, simple as that.  
Last note, I've set the status to complete because each episode, aside from the last two, are seperate stories, so no cliff hangers, and so technically complete.

Anyway, I hope this makes good reading, annd I hope you enjoy it.

Enjoy,

**

* * *

**

**PHASE 01**

**THE VANISHING SERPENT**

_DATE: NOVEMBER 25th_, _COSMIC ERA: SIXTY-NINE_

Space is so…quiet.

An empty void, with nothing but my own breathing to keep my company.

…

I hated space suits.

It's why I focused on my engineering skills rather then the piloting ones everyone seemed to go for in this time of tension.

Everyone wants to get behind the controls of a GINN, and even I'll admit, it is tempting to request a transfer.

But then I'd have to wear these skin tight things more often then I liked.

Besides, what's the point of training for war when there's no war to fight?

Then again…

I inclined my head slightly, allowing the curved emerald prow of the Laurasia Class carrier Valiant to rotate into view, the last segments of my first assignment ambling slowly along the dotted yellow line from the boxy cargo ship just out of site.

War had always been a possibility, but I had never thought it to be a reality until I graduated from the ZAFT academy. I had heard about the skirmishes of course. Far away battles that had erupted when tensions rose to far, only to be quickly quelled through negotiation and diplomacy.

But on this day, November 25th, Cosmic Era Sixty-Nine, A full scale conflict between Naturals and Coordinators seemed reduced to these passing battles and nothing more.

The Valiant quickly disappeared off to my left as I let my rotation go to far, the blue marble of Earth quickly replacing in the far off distance.

I smiled slightly as shifted to slow to a halt, gently holding up a hand towards the place of my birth, and "holding" it between my thumb and forefinger.

A friend of mine had once told me she Earth must be a confined place. Well…maybe it was in the grand scheme of things, that's why we built the PLANTs.

Doesn't look that way from here though.

"_Emergency warning! Incoming!"_

I snapped out of my daydream as the Valiant's Communication's officer's voice broke through my thoughts, my body spinning round just in time to see the guiding lines disappear with a wink.

"What the…?"

"_All hands to battle stations!"_ The Captain's voice rang through my ears as I squinted through the void for the illusive enemy, _"I repeat all hands to battle stations,"_

It didn't take me long to find what I was looking for.

Nelsons. Two of them.

No good would come of this.

* * *

"Hurry up and get those engines started! The Laurasia class is supposed to be the pride of the ZAFT fleet, let's not disappoint the boys back home!" 

"Yes sir!"

Captain Gregory Jenkins winced slightly as the first energised beam shots sailed across the bridge's main viewport, mission the ship by inches.

"This is definitely _not_ what I signed up for," the Captain smirked as he pushed his hat up along his bald dome, "How close were we to death that time?"

"Estimated forty metres of port bow," the CIC officer looked back towards her commander with relief, "We're currently too far away for them to get off a decent shot," her smile faded slightly, "Unfortunately we'll be in optimal target range within five minutes,"

"The Myria is heading to intercept Captain," Jenkins barely heard his communications officer as their accompanying ship roared past, "Also reporting the Paraná has dumped the last of it's cargo and is making it's escape,"

"Then we'll give it some cover," the Captain nodded to himself, "Weigh anchor, put us between the Nelsons and the Paraná, but don't return fire unless we have too. We don't want a battle on our hands…"

"Are you serious!?!"

Jenkins' winced at the heavily Russian accented voice as a portly officer stood up in a rage, small blue eyes glowering in disbelief as his scratchy bearded mouth turned into a thin line.

"We're not going to stand and fight? We're just gonna turn and leave with our tail between our legs while the Myria takes all the glory!?"

"Gunnery Chief…"

"Come on! Two Laurasias against a pair of Nelsons? That's an even match! More then that even,"

"Gunnery Chief Simmons," The Captain rose dangerously from his chair, the gunner not even flinching in the face of his superior, "I understand your position, however…"

"If you'd understood, then you'd let me shoot!" Jenkins winced slightly at the spray of spit that lashed his face, "What's the point of having turrets if we're not going to use them!?"

* * *

"The point is knowing when to use them, and when not to use them," I smiled grimly as I floated onto the Bridge, all eyes turning to me as I came to a halt at the captain's chair, letting my helmet float aimlessly beside my pale brown haired head, "And right now we shouldn't fire, but neither should we retreat. The Paraná's cargo was vital to our assignment. Our main objective should be to capture the last pods that were ejected before a stray shot takes them out," 

"Ah shut you're your face you redcoat egomaniac!" I bristled as the gunner turned his attention to me, "What do you know about battle tactics? We should fight now, and we can pick up your "precious" cargo later!"

"If we don't retrieve it now, we might not get a second chance!" I felt my hands clench at my sides as I stared Simmons down, "That equipment could change the course of future battles if we save it!"

"Don't talk rot! Nothing can beat a descent blaster kid, not even those fancy GINNs they've been churning out…"

"ENOUGH!!!" The Captain's voice thundered about the Bridge, causing me to involuntarily snap to attention, "I WILL HAVE SILENCE ON MY BRIDGE DO YOU HEAR ME!?!"

"Captain! The Paraná!"

A flash of white grasped my attention as another pair of emerald beam shots soared by the Valiant, my hazel eyes just catching the silhouette of the cargo ship framed against it's own explosion before the ship I had stood on mere hours before hand detonated in spectacular display of light and shrapnel.

"Well soldier," I turned back to the Captain as he stared me down darkly, "We've just lost good men and women for your cargo. I hope it's worth it,"

"Incoming message from the Myria!" The Comm. Officer put a hand to her ear piece as she frowned slightly, "Reporting one Nelson destroyed, the other in full retreat,"

"Now see what you've done!" I scowled darkly as Simmons slumped angrily back into his seat, "All this bickering cost us a good fight! Lousy redcoats, think they know everything…"

"That will do Simmons," Jenkins held up a hand for silence, before turning back to me grimly, "Let's use this moment of peace before they come back with reinforcements. Get your cargo son, but be quick about it,"

* * *

_DATE: NOVEMBER 19TH, COSMIC ERA: SIXTY-NINE._

_LOCATION: ZAFT MILITARY ACADEMY CAMPUS, APRILIUS ONE._

"Marcus Alexander Westfield," Ezalia Joule tapped the file in front of her as her dark eyes travelled the length of my body, as though studying me, "Born July 15th, CE Fifty-Three, London, Earth. A First Generation. You're parents are Naturals?"

"Yes Ma'am," I nodded quickly, "But my Uncle is a Coordinator. My grandparents were always for the use of genetic manipulation but…well…my father was the result of…"

"Say no more," the grey haired woman held up an understanding hand, "I obviously didn't summon you here for your life story," the council member leaned forward slightly with a mysterious smile, "No, I summoned you, on your graduation day no less, because you're one of the best students the Academy's churned out recently. A redcoat, an elite…and an engineer no less. I must say I'm surprised. Many of your fellows have been assigned to the mobile suit divisions, but you…"

"I'm…not fond of pilot suits Ma'am," I winced slightly at the glare she gave me from interrupting, "Especially fighting in them. Also…my father was an engineer, as was my grandfather. I guess I just wanted to carry on the tradition,"

"Well…you certainty speak your mind," Joule smirked slightly, "You better watch your tongue though Mr. Westfield, it might get you in trouble with your new superiors. You've been assigned to the 603rd Technical Evaluation Unit aboard the Valiant, a Laurasia Class Carrier under the command of Captain Gregory Jenkins. With tensions as they are, many of us on the Council fear that war will soon be upon us. As such, new weapons and defensive technologies are being developed as we speak. It will be _your_ job to test them for us, and evaluate their effectiveness in actual combat situations,"

"_Actual _Combat situations?"

"You've no doubt seen them on the news," she waved her hand dismissively, "Small conflicts have been erupting throughout space and within our allies territories on Earth. Nothing substantial as of yet but…" She faded off as pulled herself out of the chair, walking over to the large bay windows that overlooked the Academy's parade ground down below, watching the festivities of the graduation ceremonies unfold before, "If it's any consolation, Both myself and National Defence Chairman Zala are…unhappy with placing an officer fresh from the Academy in the line of fire…into this witch's pot as it were,"

"Witch's pot…Ma'am?"

The council member chuckled slightly as she turned to take in my confusion, "Chairman Zala made the comment. He said the 603rd Technical Evaluation Unit would be like a pot of stew. A Captain, whose last command was a fifty year old passenger transport. A ship, The Valiant, that was originally designed as a cargo freighter. Add to that one green engineer. And finally to top it all off, a hot headed commander who has to have everything go her way. Quite the concoction if you ask me,"

"Will this Commander be my superior then Ma'am?"

"To a certain extent. On the Valiant, Captain Jenkins' word is law in all things not related to any equipment you might be testing. The Commander makes all decisions relating to your assignments however," Joule smiled at me as she walked back over to her desk, "So in a sense, you will have to superiors to contend with,"

"I will be able to handle it Ma'am," I nodded effeminately, "I will do my best to see that my reports are as accurate as possible. Technology that is truly useful will always gain the proper recognition. If I feel a machine is not worth mass production, I am sure the Commander will agree with me,"

"We shall see," Joule pressed a button on the desk, a amll screen embedded into the nearby wall lighting up with the symbol of ZAFT, at 0800 hours tomorrow, report to the cargo ship Paraná. It will take to your rendezvous with the Valiant at L4, in addition to your first assignment,"

The screen changed, a blue and white schematic filling the monitor. My eyes widened as I took in the data before me, a lump forming in my throat as I realised how much destructive power Ezalia Joule had just handed over to me.

"This is…"

* * *

_DATE: NOVEMBER 25th_, COSMIC ERA: SIXTY-NINE 

The Bridge was a lot calmer when I floated in an hour later, now properly dressed in my crimson uniform. Nevertheless, there was definitely a eeriness to the quiet as I came to a stop in front of the captain, as though the battle before a stunned everyone into silence.

"Marcus Westfield, reporting for duty Captain Jenkins," I saluted smartly as my superior stared down at me calmly from his seat on high, "I have been assigned to this ship as part of the 603rd Technical Evaluation Unit. Also, I feel I must apologise for my earlier interruption. I…I panicked,"

"That's an understatement,"

"Simmons, enough," The Captain growled at his gunnery chief as the bearded man sulked back to his console, "At ease Mr. Westfield, and don't punish yourself so much. I didn't expect a officer fresh from the Academy to make rational decisions in his first taste of battle. That said…" he steeped his fingers as he continued to gaze down at me, "Do you know how many lives were lost with the sinking of the Paraná?"

"I was only on board the Paraná for under a week sir," I shifted uncomfortably in the zero gravity, "but for a ship of it's class, and considering no escape pods were jettisoned prior to the explosion…I would say…one hundred fifty,"

"Indeed," Jenkins sighed as he pushed off the chair to the deck below, "The reason that ship was targeted first was due to it's speed. The Captain of the Nelson no doubt was trying to take out all ships so there would be no one to tell of the attack,"

"Do you really think the Earth Alliance would be so ruthless?"

"Oh yes," the Captain's answer came without hesitation, "I may have been captain of civilian vessels, prior to this assignment, but I know the way Natural commanders think. War is coming son, and every Earth Alliance Captain out there wants to kill as many Coordinators as he can so when the call is officially announced, they'll have an even greater number advantage against us, and with all due respect to your…enthusiasm, I'd much rather protect innocent civilians, then a cargo I know nothing about,"

"That unknown cargo may change the course of the coming war Captain," I turned around in surprise as a new, feminine voice entered the conversation, "I will admit your attempt to protect the Paraná was…courageous, but retrieval of the cargo should have been a priority as well,"

The white coat that adorned her lithe form was the first thing I noticed about this newcomer, my hand coming up to my head in salute almost automatically as she came up beside me.

I got the distinct impression she was one of those people was attractive and knew it, her flame red hair, contrasting with her pale skin, tied back into a pony-tail at the top of her skull, allowing for a sing lock to trail across her face in the zero gravity, a smile that didn't quite meet her pale blue eyes sent my way as she returned the salute, before turning her attention to the Captain.

"I heard about the skirmish earlier," her voice was clipped and to the point, "Do you need to be reminded that this ship is a frigate, not a passenger liner? If the need arises, this ship can defend itself, and could of held off the Nelsons, allowed the Paraná to escape and retrieved the cargo in relatively quick time, or was your mind still back in your civilian days?"

Jenkins scowled darkly, "You're awfully young to be talking to your elders like that,"

"I'm seventeen sir," the woman smirked, "I graduated with top honours from the Academy class of 68. I've earned this uniform. Besides," she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, "It looks like you're going to have to get used to the younger generation if _this _is the evaluation engineer they sent," She returned her gaze to the Captain as I frowned at her tone of voice, "The Myria fought…valiantly…throughout the battle to it's end, and thus fulfilled it's duties as a ship of the Fleet, which is more then I can say for this ship, which not only tried to escape without firing a single shot, but failed to attempt to retrieve the property of ZAFT until the battle was over. I wonder Captain Gregory Jenkins, which commanding officer will receive the greater praise in the reports from this skirmish?"

Jenkins smiled tightly, one hand clenching hard enough for his knuckles to turn white.

"You're a tough customer I'll grant you that," his eyes narrowed to slits, "But still, nothing I haven't already seen in my civilian duties. Do you have a name by any chance? Or do I have to call you Sir all the time?"

"Commander Sarah Michaels," she held out a pale hand towards him, "I've been assigned to this ship as part of the 603rd Technical Evaluation Unit," she smiled almost sweetly…almost, "I look foreword to working with you,"

"It will certainty be an…interesting venture," the Captain's smile continued to be slightly forced as he turned to me, "Well, now that we're all here, perhaps Mr. Westfield can tell us what exactly was so important that I couldn't focus on protecting a ship full of civilians,"

"Yes sir," I swallowed nervously as two pairs of eyes turned to me, "Well…I _could_ tell you…but it's slightly easier to explain if I just show you…"

* * *

Commander Michaels, Captain Jenkins," I swept my hand across the observation window to the busy storage hanger below, "I present to you the first prototype of Project GENESIS: the XASC-76A Jörmungandr," 

I smiled nervously as the two officers stared down into the chaos that my first assignment had left the Valiant's storage hanger in.

Flying as best they could around the separated segments of the super weapon, various engineers shouted to one another as the parts were secured for transport, a few careful to avoid the pair of GINNs that seemed to be standing in everybody's way.

"Is it supposed to be in pieces?"

"Yes it's supposed to be in pieces…Ma'am," I added hastily as Michaels glared at me sharply, "But it's designed for easy assembly. Once the engineers have practiced several times, it's been estimated at a maximum of fifteen minutes,"

The Commander frowned as she returned her gaze to the bedlam below, "That doesn't sound very quick,"

"With respect Ma'am, considering it's a two hundred and thirty one metre long super weapon….yes it is," I tried my best to smile reassuringly, only to fail as it earned me another stern look, my own hazel eyes turning to the clipboard held in my hands, "According to it's design, the Jörmungandr is able to lock onto an enemy ship long before it can lock onto the weapon. In addition, Digital simulations indicate that this anti-ship cannon has the power to easily take out a Nelson in a single shot, and definitely the experimental Agamemnon flagships the Alliance has been developing,"

"Intelligence reports indicate the Agamemnon to be over three hundred metres long," Jenkins folded his arms across his chest as he watched the engineers at work, "That's a lot of firepower you've got there Mr. Westfield. Mind telling us how it achieves such a high destructive power output,"  
"Yes sir," I touched a keypad built into the corner of my clipboard, the nearby screen blinking onto the schematics a moment later, "The Jörmungandr was originally based on a design for a type of engine that would enable fast travel throughout most of the solar system. Simply put, it uses three nuclear reactors to produce a massive burst of radiation, which is then reflected by a expendable mirror which is then reflected by a second mirror to create an incredibly deadly laser beam. In addition, once the laser is fired, the expendable mirror is fired along with the beam, thus creating a solid projectile which increases damage sustained, if that's at all possible, in addition to clearing the barrel quickly for the next shot,"

"Do we have a estimated power ratio?" Michaels turned her gaze from the window to the semantics as she leaned back in the zero gravity.

"Hard to tell," I frowned as I scanned through my notes, radiation isn't measured the same as weaponry, but…apparently it would be something akin to that of 150, 000 kilowatts,"

"Range?"

"Optimum range is around three hundred kilometres but at maximum I'd say you still have a maximum impact of the beam alone at around one thousand eight hundred to two thousand kilometres,"

"Well well, that's all very interesting redcoat," I froze at the Russian accent as a certain gunnery chief ambled into the operation lounge, "I can see why the Council has pinned such high hopes on your little pop gun there,"

"You're late Mr. Simmons…"

"Ah don't go busting my balls," I grasped the chair in front of me as the officer slapped me round the back, the wind knocked clear out of me, "I'll just leave you engineers to your construction project," he smirked as he floated out the way he had come, "You just let me know when I have a big gun to fire and I'll be there. Commander," he snapped off a salute as he headed out the door, "Captain,"

"Bizarre man," Michaels frowned after the departing officer, turning to the Captain as I gasped for breath, "Where did you find him?"

Jenkins merely shrugged, "He came with the ship,"

"_Captain Jenkins come in,"_

The captain sidled over to the comm. Line embedded in the nearby wall, "What is it Bridge?"

"_Nothing important sir but…well…I thought you may want to see this,"_

The semantic faded, replaced a moment later by images of the vacuum outside.

What I saw made my heart stop.

Drop-ships. Hundreds of old cargo freighters hurriedly refitted with large cone like pods, each being filled with large yellow cylinders, a large menacing looking drill fitted to one end of each.

"What…" my throat had gone dry, I could barely speak, "What are those? Nuclear missiles?"

"No worse," I turned to the Commander expectantly, a part of my mind stunned as I took in her lowered head and clenched fists, "Their Neutron Cancellers. They're…collateral, in case the Naturals get…trigger happy,"

"Trigger happy?" I glared at her angrily, "What are you going to do with them? Plant them in the Earth. That's…" realisation dawned on me as she turned her head further away from me, "That's it exactly isn't it? Kill Nuclear power and the threat of the missiles goes away,"

"It's…it's only if they fire them first," she turned away full from me now, "The GINNs will be able to mobilise more then fast enough to take out anything the Alliance throws at us, but if it's nukes…" she looked over her shoulder at me darkly, "Then the Council has authorised those drop-ships to launch, and when they do…"

"Every single one of those jammers will be released and ploughed deep into Earth's surface," I scowled as the rest of the plan came into my mind, "That's disgusting,"

"It's not like we're firing first," she spun around angrily, "They'll only get it if they attack with nuclear.."

"Do you have _any_ idea what will happen to power on Earth if that plan goes a head," she gasped in pain as I rammed her up against the observation window, Jenkins watching quietly from the sidelines as I dug my nails into her shoulders, "We're talking about a planet wide energy crisis here! Do you know of the chaos that will ensue? The people that will die as a result of a lack of energy? Who are we to deny innocent civilians their power just because their governments are complete bastards!?"  
"And who are you to question the decisions of the PLANT supreme council!?" She glared at me fiercely, her panting breath hot on my face, "If those N-Jammers are deployed, it will no one's fault but the Naturals!" she closed her eyes as though to calm herself, for only a moment, "Haven't you heard the saying, an eye for an eye…"

"And a tooth for a tooth," I frowned as I stared into her light blue eyes before pushing away from her towards the door, "That's the basic rules of war isn't first they attack, then we attack in retaliation, and the cycle goes on and on and on…" I gave a half hearted salute as the doors opened with a hiss behind me, "I apologise for assaulting you Commander Michaels. It won't happen again,"

* * *

"That man," Sarah glared after the engineer as the doors hissed shut, "That…man! Who the hell does he think he is, attacking a superior officer like that? When I'm through with my report, he'll be lucky if he's dishonourably discharged!" 

"If I were you Commander," Jenkins pushed off a nearby chair towards the door, "I'd let his attack slide this time,"

"Slide?" Michaels stared after him in disbelief, "He assaulted me! It's not my fault the Council came to this decision. You're my witness. Are you saying you won't stand by me?"

"I'm saying you should understand his circumstances," Gregory stopped at the doorway, adjusting his hat slightly to give the Commander a piercing stare.

"His circumstances?" she glowered at him angrily, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't file for court-marshal? Just one!"

"It's something us Second Generation Coordinators don't understand as well," the Captain smiled sadly as he pushed himself out of the doorway, "His parents are Naturals, living in London, Earth. If those Jammers are deployed, we just might have signed their death sentences,"

The doors hissed shut as he left the observation lounge, leaving the Commander, stunned and alone, with nothing but images of the space beyond to comfort her.

* * *

_DATE: DECEMBER 2nd, COSMIC ERA: SIXTY-NINE_

It was only a matter of time before they found us.

Mind you, considering the fact we'd been building up our own forces in the area, it wouldn't have surprised me if the location of the N-Jammers may have been leaked on purpose to the Alliance military.

So it was that we, the ZAFT organisation, and the Earth Alliance would clash at Lagrangian Point Four, a conflict that would become a mere footnote on the pages of history books in the face of the war that had yet to come.

But for those of us that fought, it was a time of judgement, for the Valiant, and the Jörmungandr.

It was time for this sleeping serpent to bare it's fangs.

* * *

Simmons had never been fond of open space. With such a large weapon, it was impossible for it to be fired from his comfortable chair on the Valiant's Bridge. Still, that said, why the attached command centre was open to the void was beyond him. 

It was a simple box, consoles lining three sides, with the top and back removed, a small window out of the front allowing a small view of the coming area.

He supposed the lack of a wall and ceiling _did _save mony on building giant windows to allow him to see his new toy being constructed.

"Bridge, this is Simmons," the Russian gazed up towards Jörmungandr as he watched the three nuclear reactors slowly locked into place with the segmented barrel, "I understand the basics of this weapon. We should be able ready for firing at 1030 hours,"

"Gunnery chief!" the older man looked up from his thoughts at the sound of one of his comrades, "Look sir! The fleet!"

Simmons followed the younger man's gaze up to where he indicated, his eyes widening as he gazed upon the awesome sight.

Then he laughed. Long and loud, shaking his fists in victory as his comrades cheered them on.

High above them, thirty Laurasia class frigates soured over head, half peeling off to hide for a surprise attack amidst the wreckage of long forgotten space colonies.

The Earth Forces didn't stand a chance.

* * *

"Reading a signal from the flagship of the fleet," I turned as the Communications officer called out to her Captain, "Message reads: the outcome of this battle will be determined by you and the new weapon. Our fleet will split into two battle groups. The first will engage the enemy until the last of your ammunition had been used up, the second will attack the remaining forces once you have desecrated the enemy fleet," 

"Give them this response," Jenkins smiled as he saluted the passing fleet, "We eagerly await for the fleet to send us precise coordinates for the long range attack. We give our thanks in advance. Good hunting,"

* * *

_DATE: DECEMBER 2nd, COSMIC ERA: SIXTY-NINE_

_TIME: 1045 HOURS._

"_Bridge this is Simmons,"_ I clenched my fists slightly as the Gunnery Chief's voice pierced the tense atmosphere that enveloped the Bridge, _"Assembly of the Jörmungandr is complete. All technicians have withdrawn back to the Valiant,"_

"Roger that Gunnery Chief," I nodded quietly, "This is Marcus Westfield at the experimental monitoring station. Once tactical data has been sent, I will send you the exact coordinates, understand,"

"_Yeah yeah, keep your britches on redcoat,"_

"Mr. Westfield," I turned to regard the Commander as she stared at me sternly from her chair beside Jenkins, "Please keep in mind that it is the Captain's decision for when the Jörmungandr should be fired, not yours,"

"Roger that Ma'am,"

"And Mr. Westfield,"

"Ma'am?"

"Make sure…do a good job alright?"

"Yes Ma'am,"

I gazed out of the main viewport at the Jörmungandr as it set it's sights ahead to the battlefield; an ugly weapon when I looked at it properly, the trio of nuclear reactors locked into a triangle formation behind a giant barrel, a line of six expendable mirrors embedded into the loading slot near the middle of the weapon, the control centre locked by a mechanical arm jutting out from behind the reactors.

"_Coolant preparation completed," _I heard Simmons chuckle in my ear, _"I'm staking my reputation as a gunner on this pop gun of yours Redcoat,"_

I smirked as I switched my viewer to external cameras, "Just do us proud Gunny,"

"_Gunny? Hah! You've got guts after all kid, I like that. Reminds my of my mother, a Russian spirit to the end! LOAD THE FIRST ROUND!!!"_

"Reports form the front line indicate beam fire! ZAFT Forces returning. Intel indicates fifteen Nelsons and twelve Drakes," the CIC officer grinned from his station, "It's certainty going to be quite a fight!"

* * *

"So, it's begun," Simmons smirked as he gazed into the target sensor, one hand clasped firmly around the trigger joystick, "Any word from the observation crews?" 

"None yet sir,"

"What?" he looked up from his duties, "Are you sure? The link is strong?"

"The link is perfect sir,"

"Then why the hell aren't we receiving any tactical data!?"

* * *

"The Fitzpatrick is confirmed sunk! I repeat, the Fitzpatrick is confirmed sunk! Formation is breaking up!" 

"Why?" Michaels ran a hand through her hair as she stared at the screen with agitation, "Why are we getting all this useless information?"

"I'm not sure," I scowled darkly at my readouts, "Sensors indicate the fleet is keeping a fair distance from the Alliance forces. If they just closed for the attack…"

"They're ignoring us!"

"Ma'am?"

"It's so obvious," Jenkins gritted his teeth angrily, "This is clear evidence that they want us to do nothing more then sit on the sidelines! If not, this kind of fighting…"

"_Why haven't I received any tactical data?" _Simmons' angry helmeted head appeared on the screen above the viewport, _"if I don't get anything real soon, I'm gonna start firing on my own!"_

"Negative Mr. Simmons!" The Commander stood up quickly, her eyes wide and panicky, "The information will come I know it! They probably just…"

"_If I keep waiting, the battle will be over!"_ Simmons bared his teeth, _"This is no good. Jörmungandr firing!"_

"No wait!"

With a roar, a burning red beam of light erupted from the Jörmungandr's barrel, the remains of the first expendable mirror soaring across the darkness into the battle beyond.

"Such power," Michaels slumped back into her seat as she watched the shot soar towards the conflict, "Amazing,"

"To bad it didn't hit anything," I frowned as I watched the beam sail through the enemy lines, a single Nelson buckling from the gravitational forces, but relatively unharmed, "This weapon is useless without the proper data," I stood up slowly as I came to a conclusion, "If our own forces won't get that data for us, then someone here has to do it for them!"

* * *

"_Are you sure this is wise Mr. Westfield?"_ The Captain gazed at me sternly from the GINN's Comm. Line, _"Going out into the heat of battle in a single mobile suit, with no back-up…or a pilot suit?"_

"I don't like pilot suits," I scowled darkly as I completed my final checks, "They're tight and itchy, and cockpits are claustrophobic enough as it is. Besides, nine times out of ten the shot that pierces the cockpit destroys the machine,"

"_And the one time out of ten that the suit_ isn't_ destroyed by that piercing shot?"_

"The odds just don't work in my favour that way,"

"_Remember Mr. Westfield,"_ Michaels stern face replaced the Captain's, _"Head in straight and fast. We need that tactical data as fast as possible,"_ She smirked slightly, _"Let's just hope your as good a pilot as you say you're an engineer,"_

I snapped off a salute with a smile, "I'll try my hardest Commander. This is Marcus Westfield. GINN, heading out!"

I bit my lip hard as I was thrust into the back of my chair as Valiant's catapult launched me into space, the GINN's thruters further propelling me into the fray.

"Attention all ZAFT vessels, this is Marcus Westfield of the Valiant. In order to gain tactical data for the firing of the Jörmungandr. This is an emergency situation, do not fire on me,"

The GINN rocked as another blood red beam and expendable mirror shot past, my hands clenching tightly around the control sticks as my mobile suit caught the gravitation forces.

"Gunny, hold off on the firing until I send you the tactical data. Please just be patient for a little while longer,"

"_Well be quick about it redcoat!"_ Simmons' eyes narrowed on the comm. screen, _"I'm running out off…"_

The cockpit was suddenly dyed red as an alert signal blotted Simmons from view.

"What?" I hastily brought my assault rifle to bear, "Incoming?"

I soon realised I wouldn't need it.

Like a swarm of angry bees, ninety GINNs swooped overhead, their rifles aimed and ready as they jumped into the battle, proceeding to cut through the beam fire and slash through the enemy.

"What in the…world?"

"_Attention pilot Marcus Westfield of the 603rd Technical Evaluation Unit carrier Valiant,"_ I blinked as I suddenly realised a snow white mobile suit had pulled up along side me, realisation dawning in my eyes as I recognised the blond hair and blue eyes of it's operator on the comm. screen, _"You are to convey these instructions to your ship. We are in the middle of an operation. You will leave this battle to the mobile suit squadrons. Is that clear?"_

"But sir I…"

"_Is that _clear _Mr. Westfield?"_

I gritted my teeth angrily as I stared into his solemn eyes, before slumping back into my chair, my own orbs cast down to me feet,"

"Orders…acknowledged…Rau Le Creuset,"

I let my head thump back against the headrest as the channel was cut without another word. All I could do was watch as ninety GINNs tore the Earth ships apart.

Drakes and Nelsons alike fell to their combined might, explosions lighting up the sky as the battle turned in our favour.

Clearly the second battle group hadn't been waiting for us to deplete our mirrors, they'd been waiting for the perfect moment to deploy their mobile suits and catch the Earth Forces off guard.

"Attention Valiant, this is Westfield," I sighed heavily as I turned my GINN around at headed back the way I had come, "Returning home in accordance with new orders,"

* * *

The Bridge was near silent as Marcus signed off. No one spoke, no one moved for a full minute. 

"Not…Not only were ignored," Sarah finally found her voice, shaking her head, as though not quite believing what she'd heard, "We weren't even in the battle plan at all…"

"_So…what are you saying?"_ Simmons didn't look up from his position on the screen, _"That from the start…there was no reason for us being here!?"_ He looked up angrily, _"Well I don't care. I don't care if we were taken by the council and hung out to dry! Even if it doesn't help us win this fight, I'm still gonna fire this accursed thing!!!"_

"_Valiant!"_ The Commander looked up as Westfield's voice resonated through the Bridge, _"Incoming missiles!"_

The ship rocked as the missile barrage exploded across Valiant's stern, Simmons' image distorting as he cried out in pain before dissolving into static.

"_Valiant come in,"_ Marcus' worried face replaced the Gunnery Chief's through the static, _"You have a incoming Nelson that broke through the lines. It took out the Jörmungandr's control centre and I don't think I can take it out with what ammunition I have. Please abandon the cannon and get out of there as quickly as you can,"_

"Commander Michaels?" Jenkins rolled his head over to gaze at the young officer, Sarah staring ahead at Westfield's desperate face, "All decisions regarding the experimental technologies aboard this ship come under your authority. Do you want us to abandon the Jörmungandr, or should we stand and fight?"

"Captain Jenkins," her voice was harsh and low, barely a whisper, "It is my official opinion…that if the council doesn't see the point of such a weapon, neither do I. you may order the ship to retreat. Mr. Westfield," she focused on him now, "I know you have only used Proto GINNs prior to this encounter…but please try to slow down the Nelson until we have evacuated the gunnery crew,"

"_Roger that Ma'am,"_

"All Jörmungandr Gunnery Crew members," Jenkins called out as Sarah slumped back in her chair, "If you can hear me, return to the Valiant immediately,"

* * *

"…_return to the Valiant immediately,"_

Simmons laughed harshly as he watched blobs of blood splatter across his helmet. He was the only one left of the Gunnery Crew, the others having been blown clear away by the explosion. He had only managed to survivie because some engineer had had the brains to make the wires in the firing joystick super tough, the stick now jarred loose from it's holding and pulled taunt by the gunner's weight.

"Bridge, this is Simmons," every move he made caused pain, but he made a constant effort to sound strong int eh face of death, "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not going anywhere. I…can't feel anything below my chest. Everything's numb. Besides…" he swung his arm around to rotate the targeting viewer into his vision, "Even if I could move…I wouldn't make it in time with the rate that ship's baring down on us," He grinned as he watched a solitary GINN dot around the Nelson, trying it's hardest to get the ship's attention, "Heh, you keep at it redcoat,"

"_Hang in there Mr. Simmons,"_ The captain's voice was stern in his ears, _"We're sending out a shuttle to pick you up. Valiant may have been abandoned, but that doesn't mean we say the same for our own,"_

"Ah, that's the spirit Captain," Simmons grinned as he wiggled the joystick until the target fell upon the Nelson's prow, "Unfortunately the enemy's heading this way, you'd only be creating unnecessary casualties if you sent someone out to get me. Besides, they're coming straight at me, not like I can miss for a third time eh?"

A beam shot soared over head mere minutes before the turret was destroyed my Marcus' gunfire, causing the Russian's grin to increase, "Looks like the redcoat's causing them to panic. No doubt they'll try to take me out before they run out of offensive weaponry,"

"_It doesn't matter Gunny,"_ Westfield's voice echoed through his ears as stars began to dance at the edge of his vision, _"I'm out of ammo. I'm coming in to pick you up…"_

"You stay where you are redcoat," Simmons scowled darkly, pain now wracking his body with the slightest of movements as the world went dark, "It seems to me…mobile suits will be the key to the door of victory in this upcoming war. At least…from here I can…end the era of the big guns…with a bang…"

The button depressed, the cannon shook as his final shot was fired, and darkness encompassed him.

* * *

All I could do was watch. 

Watch as Jörmungandr's barrel fired one last shot across space, the expendable mirror tearing through the Nelson's bow like it was made of tin foil, the following gamma ray laser beam slicing through one end of the hull and out the other, the entire ship ballooning out of shape before exploding in a ball of blue light, shockwaves forcing me to grasp the GINN's control sticks as I was temporarily blinded by the luminosity that engulfed my cameras.

But the time the light faded, there was nothing left, save for a few floating pieces of scrap metal, and the sheer awe I felt at the realisation of the power of the cannon that nobody wanted.

* * *

Dear Shiho, 

My first assignment out in the field was not all I had expected it to be. While I had initially hoped to be assigned to somewhere Earth-bound, I did feel honoured to be selected by Committee member Joule as a member of the 603rd Technical Evaluation Unit.

As I said however, my first assignment was not what I expected it to be.

The Jörmungandr's power…astounded me. Even though of the three fired three shots only one hit it's mark, the fact it actually destroyed a Nelson Class battleship in one attack is…incredible. Despite this, due to the fact we were blatantly ignored during the course of the skirmish, and were never given the proper tactical data we needed, this super weapon was never given the chance to prove itself, or have a major outcome on the battle. Perhaps it was for the best, for even I fear the consequences of using such a destructive weapon may have created a more power hungry hand then ZAFT and the PLANTs can handle.

Also, the loss of Aleksandro Simmons, the gunner of the Jörmungandr to the end, was also a great loss to us.

At the same time, I got to see, and even pilot, a GINN mobile weapon in actual combat. Watching those machines in action, even feeling the thrill of piloting one myself, was amazing in it's self. I can't help but think however…if Jörmungandr had been given the same attention as the GINNs…I firmly believe that it's potential would have been the same, possibly greater.

But as I said, perhaps it is better this serpent never rears it's fangs again, lest even bigger snakes are spawned form it's legacy.

As usual give my love to your parents, and tell my Uncle not to worry so much, as I know he will be after watching the news feeds.

My best regards,

Marcus.

* * *

If any of you are wondering why he's writing to Shiho, I have a back story running around my head, which I might post as part of this fic, or maybe as a seperate one-shot, but she is one of my fav characters, so that's the real world explanation. Also, Marcus Westfield is the main character of Gundam Eternal, which is why he's different from Oliver May, the protagonist of Gundam MS Igloo. I just felt it'd be eaiser to write and compare to Eternal this way.

I hope you enjoyed this. If you are going to review though (And I really hope you do) please don't flame. I accept constructive criticism.

Again I hope you enjoyed, and I hope you'll be reading the next chapter once it's finished.

Dearing


	2. The Howls That Stained The Dusk

**PHASE 02**

**THE HOWLS THAT STAINED THE DUSK**

Robert Languish sighed as he drummed his fingers against the side of his rifle, his dark blue eyes cast out across the Indian Ocean as it sparkled in the sunlight above.

He must have been bored if he was gazing at the sea. Australia may be a beautiful place to be sure, but when you spent hours on end by yourself at a tiny outpost of the continent's north-western tip watching out for any signs of a Earth Alliance invasion that never seemed to arrive, even the scenery would eventually get to you.

"_Hey little man, I see you,"  
_Robert jumped as the tower's radio crackled to life, the old soldier swallowing slightly as he found himself staring into the single blood red eye of a GINN from across the open bay windows, another standing just behind it, gazing out towards the desert beyond his home.

"I'm sorry sir," Languish snapped off a salute as he picked up the radio, "I don't get much company out here. Guess I dozed off. How can I help you?"

"Need some ammunition for a live ammo mock battle," the mobile suit stood up to it's full height, indicating slowly to the store houses near the base of the outpost's tower with it's massive rifle, "You got any 500mm rounds in those huts down there?"

"We've got plenty in storage sir," the soldier grinned, "Been holding it for the boys down at Carpentaria," his smile faded slightly as he realised something, "Sir, if I might ask, if you use live ammunition, wouldn't that contradict the terms of a 'mock' battle?"

A dark chuckle echoed across the radio as the soldier found himself staring down the barrel of the GINN's rifle.

"_That is would little man, that it would,"_

The last thought that went through Robert's mind was how slow the mobile suit seemed to move before the control room of the outpost exploded in an array of glass and mortar.

* * *

_DATE: DECEMBER TENTH, COSMIC ERA: SIXTY-NINE._

_LOCATION: OFFICE OF YURI AMALFI, APRILIUS ONE._

"The YTFA-2 ZuOOT, our first mass production transformable artillery mobile suit. " Yuri Amalfi smiled slightly as I turned my gaze to the nearby screen as the bizarre tank's schematics rotated lazily upon it, "Defence Committee Chairman Zala has requested the 603rd Technical Evaluation Unit test it's usefulness in the field. The Oceania Union has graciously granted us the use of it's territory for your evaluation,"

"Sir, I think there must have been some mistake," I frowned at the screen anxiously, "I mean, with respect, the ZuOOT has already been tested. It was one of the first mobile suits produced following the GINN, but it's tests determined the unit to be unsuitable for mass production,"

"Ezalia said you were a smart one," Amalfi sighed as he ran a hand through his dark brown hair, "Yes it's true, the ZuOOT _wasn__'__t_ given the go-ahead for mass production two years ago, that's why once tests are completed, I want you to just leave the unit in the Australian deserts to rust in piece,"

"Sir…are you telling me this evaluation is no more then an expensive way to get rid of a blemish on ZAFT's factory records?"

"I'll let you in on a little secret Mr. Westfield," The committee member steeped his hands as he studied me, "War is coming. We know it, The Alliance knows it, even the public know it's only a matter of time before one side breaks. Unfortunately what they _don__'__t _know is that we don't nearly have the same kind of numbers as the Earth Alliance does. When war does break out…not even the council is sure for how long we can hold out.

That's why…this order came from Defence Committee Chairman Zala himself,"

* * *

_DATE: DECEMBER TWELFTH, COSMIC ERA: SIXTY-NINE_

_LOCATION: ZAFT VESSEL VALIANT, EARTH ORBIT, GEOSTATIONARY OVER AUSTRALIA._

So here we were, two days later, the ZuOOT restrained within our launch bay, ready to make possibly one of the most useless evaluations of our careers.

The ZuOOT itself was an ugly machine. A crimson mech that looked as though someone hand taken a GINN, sawn it's legs off and replaced them with the treads of a linear tank, before fixing four cannons (two on each side) to it's shoulders as a last minute addition.

"_A deployment for the sake of deployment,"_ I sighed mentally as I leaned against the observation lounge's window, _"It doesn't matter if the ZuOOT is useful or not, this entire mission is just a diversion from the fact we don't have enough men. Is that what the Technical Evaluation Units are to those pencil pushers? Just another tool of propaganda?"_

"Hey? Heey? Hey soldier, wake up!"

I blinked as something bounced off the side of my head, spilling a dark green substance from it's narrow white container as it floated away in zero gravity, it's owner regarding me with mild amusement.

He couldn't have been too far into his forties, his tanned skin marred by a large scar that streaked across the left side of his face.

His dark thinning hair was slicked back across his skull, giving it a strange spiked look, coupled with the short dirty goatee that adorned his chin, bright blue eyes matching the smirk that graced his lips.

"You in charge around here?" the elder man turned his gaze to the thin object he'd flicked at me, "I've been assigned as the pilot of the ZuOOT, for what it's worth. Demetrius Soran," he cast a lazy salute in my direction, "at your service,"

"Marcus Westfield," My hand came to my forehead in salute, "I'm sorry, but if you're reporting in, you'll need Commander Michaels, she deals with all the mobile suit pilots aboard the Valiant,"

"Ah, I see," Soran sighed as he shook the box in his hand, another thin tube escaping it's confines, "You want one?"

I blinked down at the box with surprise, before quickly glancing at the object he'd flicked at me as it sailed past my nose.

A cigarette.

"No thanks," I winced slightly as he fished a light from a pouch on his belt, "I don't smoke,"

"Who does these days?" Demetrius grinned as he pulled the cigarette from the box with his teeth, "What with all this junk about cancer and stuff. Doesn't bother me though,"

"It's true though isn't it?"

"Oh sure it is," the greencoat smirked as he lit up, "But I'm a soldier kid. Chances are it'll be a bullet rather then one of these things that'll finish me off," he blew a puff of smoke into the air, the vapour hanging lazily in the low gravity before he waved it away, "May as well risk the cancer while I'm still here eh?"

I wrinkled my nose in disgust at the smell of tobacco as my new comrade pushed himself off the wall towards the window.

"So, how's this guy doing after two years in mothballs?"

"As well as to be expected," I turned my gaze to the mobile suit below as I watched the technicians swarm across it's surface like ants, "The engineers will have it running at full capacity by the start of the mission. You'll have a maximum speed of around a hundred and ten kilometres and hour, as well as all four 33 cm cannons, vulcan guns and barrel cannons armed and loaded. You've also been given a heavy assault machine gun," I frowned slightly, "It's all live ammunition, so be careful where you shoot,"

"You got it," Soran smirked with a nod, never taking his eyes of the ZuOOT's crimson form, "Just you wait, once the bigwigs see the machine in action, they'll have no choice but to put it into mass production,"

I gave him a curious look, "You _have_ read the mission profile for this evaluation right?"  
"Of course," he smirked at me as he took another puff of his cigarette, "But if this guy can fight, maybe the good Defence Committee Chairman will reconsider eh? You've heard the rumours right?"

Who hadn't? For a while now there had been whispers that Australia was currently plagued by a group of rogue GINNs taking out small outposts and the like. I nodded in confirmation.

"That maybe true, but we have no way of knowing if we'll…"

"Come on Commander," my sentence was cut off by the sounds of voices in the corridor, "I still think I should be the one piloting the GINN! I'm Valiant's top pilot after all…"

"Which is why you're to remain here to protect the ship," I smiled as I recognised the voice of our esteemed Commander Sarah Michaels as the door to the lounge hissed open, "Mr. Westfield shall be piloting the a GINN down to the surface to insure the ZuOOT has back-up should we run into problems,"  
"But he's just an engineer!" I recognised the young man that followed the Commander into the room, one Roger Felcar, a greencoat second generation Coordinator who seemed to feel the need to prove himself to everybody he met. He was right though, he was the best pilot on the ship, his failures in the other areas of academy training being the reason he never achieved elite status, "He doesn't even like piloting mobile suits, why put him through it when you could have me?"

"Because Marcus Westfield is both a capable engineer and pilot," Michaels stared daggers at the young officer, causing his mouth to shut quickly with a click, "He can provide cover for the ZuOOT and perform the tests at the same time. It kills two birds with one stone, and saves us the man power, speaking of which," she turned to me as though realising I was in the same room, "Good morning Mr. Westfield, we were just talking about you,"

"Commander," I smiled as I gave her a formal salute, Felcar mirroring my gesture behind her, "I was actually just about to go and find you," I indicated to the soldier behind me, "This is the pilot that's been assigned to the ZuOOT for the duration of the test, Demetrius…"

"Soran," I blinked in surprise as recognition and horror passed across the Commander's face, "Demetrius Soran,"

"Hello Sarah," Soran smiled as he cast a lazy salute, "Been a while,"

A tense silence overcame the room as the two officers stared at each other, Michaels' fists clenching at her side while Soran smiled good naturedly.

"Mr. Westfield," I glanced to my Commander as she addressed me, "You are to be piloting a GINN down to the surface with Mr. Soran and the ZuOOT. With all the rumours of rouge officers abound at the moment. I won't take the chance of running into those rogue GINNs while we're down there understand?"

It hadn't taken me long to know that arguing with Sarah Michaels was a futile endeavour, "Crystal clear Ma'am,"

"Very good,"  
"But Commander," Felcar began to complain again as she pushed by him, his voice wafting down the corridor as he tried to convince her to change her mind, "He's just an engineer he'll get slaughtered down there…"

I sighed as I shook my head, before turning my gaze to Soran.

"You mind explaining?"

"Sorry kid," the older man chuckled as he turned his eyes back to the ZuOOT below, "I don't kiss and tell,"

* * *

"As of 1000 hours on the tenth of December of this year, these were the orders forwarded to us from Defence Committee Member Yuri Amalfi via Marcus Westfield concerning the revaluation of the mobile suit unit YTFA-2, codenamed the ZuOOT," Michaels tapped the map in front of her with a single long finger, her nail clicking against the side of the display as she took in the faces of myself, Captain Jenkins and Soran in front of her, "The unit will be dropped by the Valiant over north-western Australia, near supply post Ninety-Four. Once the ZuOOT has reached the Earth's surface, Mr. Westfield will make sure nothing was damaged before firing tests will commence. The evaluation will be divided into various stages. Also, based on Ninety-Four's location we shall…"

"This will be good right?"

I gazed uneasily at Soran as Michaels stared dangerously in his direction, "If this goes according to plan, won't we be able to prove that the initial evaluation was wrong?" he sniggered, "Engineers have no idea what it's like to be in actual combat,"

I coughed hard, "I do,"

"Yeah well," the elder man smirked as he stuck another cigarette in his mouth, "You didn't really fight at L4 did ya? Let old Le Creuset and his goons do all the work,"

"In addition to the ZuOOT," The Commander's calm voice cut in before I could retort, "Mr. Westfield will be piloting one of the Valiant's GINNs to conduct efficient testing and provide support if needs be…and I shall also be joining you via a Infestus to observe from the skies,"  
"What?" the soldier almost spat out his cigarette in surprise, "Why you?"

"Is there a problem with that decision Mr. Soran?" she smiled dangerously, as though daring to defy her.

"No but…"

"Supply Outpost Ninety-Four is only a hundred kilometres away from Outpost Forty-Eight, along the continent's coastline," Jenkins frowned as he rubbed a hand across his bald head, "It was the last installation to be attacked by the Rogue GINNs, around two weeks ago. They may still be in the area,"

"If it was a hundred kilometres, we may show up their sensors," I cast a worried look across the table to Michaels, "We have no idea why these pilots have gone against us, or even if they've truly defected to the Alliance. Should we really continue the tests if the enemy is so close?"

"That's why you're heading out in a GINN Mr. Westfield," I felt a slight heat in my cheeks at the sly smirk that the Commander sent my way, "You'll be there to provide cover fire in case we run into such difficulties, as well as making sure the tests are completed if we do not. The three of us will be deployed via drop pod, with you holding onto the Infestus in it's deployed mode until we have cleared the atmosphere. Once the drop pod has released us, I will take off from you while the ZuOOT continues onto the ground,"

"Well this should be fun," Soran smirked, "there's no way a GINN could keep up with the ZuOOT if it's been fighting all across Australia these past few months. They'll make easy targets if we run into them,"

"Like wounded dogs,"  
"What was that?" Demetrius glared at the Commander, "If you have something to say, then say it to my face!"

"All I'm saying is that fighting a weaker enemy would denounce the final evaluation," that same sly smirk graced Michaels features as Soran's fist shook angrily, "And that wouldn't look good for your precious ZuOOT, now would it, Mr. Soran?"

* * *

"I don't feel comfortable about doing this,"

"_A pilot suit is necessary Mr. Westfield. You didn't really think you'd be able to make a drop without one,"_

"That's not what I meant," I scowled darkly at the Commander's amused face, "I mean I'm not comfortable about being launched like this. A Infestus wasn't designed to be launched by a GINN you know. That's why they call it a VTOL,"

"_Command had no other ships to spare," _Michaels smirked, _"Besides, I'm in for a rougher ride then you are, and you probably don't even want to think about the hell Soran's going to through in the ZuOOT. That machine simply wasn't designed for orbital drops,"_

"Speaking of which," I gazed down at her seriously as I completed my pre-launch checks, "Commander…you and Mr. Soran seem to know each other from a previous encounter,"

"_Thinking we have a little competition Mr. Westfield?"_ she laughed as I felt my cheeks heat up again, _"If that's the case, your powers of observation are worse then I thought,"_

"It was just a comment Ma'am,"

"_I know. But I will say this on your '_comment' _Mr. Westfield: even if a soldier degrades, he will still be a soldier through to his dying day,"_

I remained silent as she terminated the channel, my mind barely registering Captain Jenkins' voice in my helmet's speakers as he announced the release of the drop pod, the slight drop in my stomach snapping me out of my thoughts as Valiant's Communications Officer gave a running commentary of our decent in my ear.

"_First layer traversed. Decelerate to Mach Four, trajectory good,"_

"_I admired him once,"_

I blinked as my comm. screen came online above my head once more, Sarah Michaels' face looking sad and thoughtful.

"Excuse me?"

"_Thirty seconds until termination of cooling stage,"_

"_I used to admire him…Demetrius Soran,"_ she looked slightly agitated that I had forgotten our conversation so quickly, _"He used to be an instructor at the Academy, before your time,"_

"_Commence aero-dynamic control,"_

"_He was a talented soldier, something that ran in his family. Did you know his grandfather fought in the Reconstruction Wars? Back in Sixty-seven however, when they were searching for the first pilots for the GINNs, he didn't perform too well on the selection tests,"_

"_Mr. Westfield report in,"_

"Erm…all systems go. Infestus is secure, ZuOOT hasn't moved around too much during re-entry. Second layer traversed,"

"_It slowly began to eat away at him, watching as all the young solders around him gradually became mobile suit pilots, leaving him behind," _The commander continued on as though I hadn't spoken to the Communications officer,_ "Eventually, right before my own graduation, he completely gave up on himself,"_

"Past layer of turbulence, deceleration to mach zero point nine," I turned my attention back to the Commander, "In our line of work, we experience failure every so often, but just because we fail once, doesn't mean we just stop. We didn't give up just because the Jörmungandr didn't live up to our expectations," I glanced up at my readouts quickly, "Cooling stage ceased, Altitude good,"

"_I will admit, failure can be a good thing, especially when it's remedied," _she smiled wryly, _"It stops the ego from inflating too much, and lets us know that we're still human. But that man," _she scowled darkly, _"He let that one failure take hold of his life. I'd heard nothing but good things about him from my own father, but when I actually met him…it was like talking to a living corpse. He's a coward and a dog…no…being a dog would be too good for him,"_

I stared at her anguished face until an alarm blared in my ear, signalling the final part of the drop was about to commence.

"Activating program decent coordinates. Stand by for ejection of drop pod in three…two…one…eject!"

With a dull thud the explosive bolts shattered, bright Australian sunlight pouring into the darkened pod as the plates fell away, my GINN and Soran's ZuOOT falling away from the support strut as I felt the Infestus' vibrate with activation.

"_Engines are go, position is horizontal. Mr. Westfield, release the Infestus,"_

I didn't need telling twice. Barely a moment after the GINN's fingers released the fuselage, the small plane flew out from under the mobile suit out into the blue sky.

"_Where's the ZuOOT?"_

I checked my readings as I pulled my GINN's rifle from it's holster, "Still descending. It's a lot heavier then a GINN, so it will have to keep falling for a little while yet,"

* * *

Jonathan Scotts sighed as his machine moved achingly across the sand, an occasional curse escaping his mouth as the GINN slipped on the odd dune.

He was tired, his body having been run on adrenaline alone for the past few weeks. But he didn't mind. This was why he became a soldier after all. Fighting was his life.

His only major problem at present was the was his bad eye constantly itched as sweat seeped in under his patch.

"_Supply Outpost Ninety-four is coming up Commander,"_

"Excellent," Scotts smiled as he moved one of the GINN's arms into a slow salute to his comrade, "Come on, let's see if our guests have arrived yet,"

Supply Outpost Ninety-four was little more then a collection of hastily constructed warehouses in the middle of the deserts of Australia, a single Proto-GINN standing guard near the living quarters, the rifle of a GINN held in it's hands.

"Hey there little man," Scotts grinned as the Proto-GINN's single blood red eye turned to face him as he approached, "Any sign of those units from the Valiant yet?"

"_Not yet,"_ the voice over the comm. line was young and innocent, most likely a soldier fresh from the academy, _"Should be around soon though. They're not late yet,"_

"I see," the Commander smiled as he scratched at the scar that adorned the left side of his face, "Mind if I stick around? You don't have any 500mm rounds to spare for my unit do you?"

"_I guess it wouldn't hurt. If you want supplies though, you'll have to talk to the store manager,"_

A proximity alarm echoed around the cockpit, Scotts moving the GINN's head up as his camera zoomed in on the approaching units; a Infestus and a GINN.

"_Well what do you know? There they are!" _The commander smiled as he watched events unfold, a pair of missiles streaking through the sky, clipping a wing of the VTOL plane as the GINN swerved for cover, _"Hey what the hell!? They're under attack! We have to…"_

The soldier's voice was cut off as the Proto-GINN staggered back from the hail of bullets that belched out of Scotts' machine gun, the mobile suit exploding as it collapsed to the sandy ground as several other GINNs came over the top of the dune.

"Such a waste," Jonathan sighed with a smirk, "But I wonder little man, do you really believe the Store Manager will give ammunition to 'filthy' Naturals such as ourselves?"

* * *

"Commander, report in!" I stared desperately as the Infestus began to spin wildly, "Michaels what's your status?"  
_"__Right hand stabiliser__…__disabled,__"_ I couldn't see her face, the comm. screen dominated by static, but it was clear from the sound of her voice she was in trouble, _"__I can hold her__…__contact the Valiant though, we__'__ll be needing a salvage operation once I get her to the ground,__"_

"I'm being blocked on all frequencies," I scowled hard as I tried to raise my ship, finally slamming my hand against the panel in anguish, "I can't raise the Valiant…can't even reach the supply post,"

"_There's a simple reason for that kid," _I looked up at the comm. Screen as Soran's grave face appeared, _"Sorry to break it to you guys but it looks like those rogues got to the outpost before we did. Go after the Commander. ZuOOT touchdown is one minute,"_

"_While your chivalry is touching Mr. Soran, I can handle a crash landing by myself," _Michaels voice was reduced to a static-ridden audio in my helmets speakers as I rotated the GINN's camera towards the descending ZuOOT, pure white parachutes blossoming from it's back as it neared the ground, _"Mr. Westfield will assist you in your assault. I won't permit a solo excursion,"_

"_Is the test of a single unit really worth your life Sarah?"_ Soran grinned, _"Besides, if the kid intervenes, that would make the evaluation useless would it not? I told you we might run into them. Makes good target practice,"_

A silence came over my helmet speakers, the Commander either too stunned or to preoccupied to reply.

I decided to make the decision for her.

"Mr. Soran, you have a go,"

"_Mr. Westfield that isn't your decision!"  
_"The life of a soldier isn't worth one machine the Defence Committee doesn't even want to mass produce," I scowled as I moved towards the spinning Infestus, "I'm coming into assist you Ma'am, like it or not. You can court-martial me later. Mr. Soran, you may commence evaluations when ready,"

The older man smiled as he snapped of a salute,

"_Roger that kid,"_

"Commander Michaels stand by," I narrowed my eyes slightly in concentration as I moved over the out of control plane, "at your rate of decent, the Infestus will break up on impact. I need you to stabilise for as long as possible, then eject, do you understand?"  
_"__I don__'__t take orders from you Westfield!__"_

"I'm only trying to save you're life Ma'am," I scowled darkly, "The last thing Valiant needs is the death of it's commander. Now can you stabilise or not?"

"_I…I can get three seconds if I boost power to the starboard engines but…"_

"It will have to do," I felt the sweat condense in my gloves as I tightened my grip on the control sticks, "Once you've ejected, I'll catch you on the way down understand?"

"_Under…stood,"_

"On the count of three then," Any harder, and I swear the control sticks would have come off in my hand as I backed off from the now descending plane, "One…Two…THREE!!"

For a matter of moments, the entire craft slowed down in it's rotation, never stopping.

With a bang of explosive bolts the canopy came clear, a small chair flung off completely in the wrong direction as the Infestus refused to stop it's motion, the rockets sending the pilot's seat all over the place like a firework.

"Oh shit!"  
Michaels screams resonated through my head as I pulled away from the falling wreckage, watching helplessly as the chair propelled the Commander higher and higher, before beginning it's long plummet to the ground.

I silently urged the GINN on as my Commander continued to fall towards the dusty ground below, my rifle falling away as mechanical hands outstretched ready to catch her as I forced the mobile suit into a steep dive.

We were so far away. No matter how fast I pushed she just seemed to be falling faster.

Every second I got closer to her, she got closer to the ground. I wasn't going to make it! I was going to see a large messy stain on the sands below I just knew it! I wouldn't be able to save her! I…"

A heavy clunk of metal on metal brought me back to my senses, my hands automatically pulling back on the controls, the giant mobile suit pulling out to it's dive just in time to come into a running landing across the desert terrain, the Commander safe and sound.

I breathed a sigh of relief, letting my head fall back against my chair with a clunk, my breathing hard and shallow.

The Commander was safe. Sarah Michaels was safe. I had just saved a life, as well as a whole lot of paperwork when I returned to the Valiant.

"_Mr. Westfield,"_

I blinked my eyes open as Michaels voice came over my helmet's speakers, quiet and calm.

"Yes Ma'am?"

"_If you ever have the opportunity to save my life again. Don't,"_

I frowned slightly as I lolled my head to one side, watching hazily as the Infestus came to the ground in a grand display of fire, smoke and shrapnel.

"Understood Ma'am,"

"_And…Mr. Westfield?"_

"Yes Ma'am?"

"…_Thanks,"_

* * *

"_Do you think we got the Infestus down sir?"_

"Probably," Scotts smiled to himself at his underling's worried tone, "It's the GINN escort that worries me though. That's not a Natural at the controls boys. I've sent Lee and Mulroy to check out the crash site though. This OS may be jury-rigged, but even a squad of Naturals against one Coordinator should be an even match. Once we're done here though, we'll search a ten kilometre radius from the outpost. A GINN and a Infestus don't just come down from space for a leisurely flight for no reason. I want to know why their out here,"

"_Maybe they were searching for us?"  
_"Doubtful," Jonathan sniggered, "Coordinators may be full of themselves with their fancy genetic modification, but they think we're rogues remember? No idiot sends one GINN and a VTOL aircraft to take down eight mobile suits, not even that fool they call Patrick Zala,"

* * *

"Hello there my little friends," Soran smiled as he stared down the ZuOOT's targeting scope, "Hey kid, you read me?"

"_Loud and clear Mr. Soran," _Westfield's face appeared on his Comm. Screen,_ "What do you see?"_

"GINNs, eight of them," the officer pulled a cigarette from it's box with his teeth, "They're moving real slow like though. I'm guessing someone fiddled with the OS, tried to dumb it down,"  
_"__Someone?__"_ The redcoat frowned, _"__But who would need to reprogram an OS? Any pilot whose gone through the training wouldn__'__t need to edit it too far beyond personal preferences,__"_

"Any _Coordinator_ pilot kid," the older man grinned, "Now Naturals, they're a different story. Duller reflexes, slower reaction times, you know?"

"_They're Naturals? Why are they preying on our outposts?"_

"You got me kid," Soran frowned as he lit up, his eyes never leaving the wandering GINNs as they picked through the devastation they had wrought on the outpost, "Maybe they were sent here by the Alliance, maybe they just don't like us. All I know is I've got eight GINNs on my scope, and I'm pretty certain we've got Natural pilots at the helm. You want me to shoot them?"

"_Negative. Pull back until we can safely assess the situation…Also Commander Michaels is pretty worse for wear. She's fine by the way, just a little shook up. We should really wait for…"_

"If I wait much longer, I'm gonna get discovered," the officer let a cloud of grey smoke bellow from his nostrils angrily, "And I'm not gonna be shot in the back just because Sarah's napping! Come on, you're a redcoat ain't ya?"

"_Just because I wear red doesn't mean I have the authority to make life and death decisions,"_ Marcus scowled darkly, _"You would be heavily outnumbered, outgunned,"_

"They're Naturals kid, in GINNs that snails could outrun. I'll start with the ones that stop moving," he smirked slightly as one turned to survey the remains of a warehouse, "That one with it's back turned will do nicely. What do say kid, ready to start evaluating?

There was a long pause, Westfield's face contorting into a look of concentration as he weighed the odds. Finally he slumped back in his chair with a sigh.

"_Very well Mr. Soran. Commence evaluation,"_

"That's what I wanted to hear,"

* * *

"_Hey…what's that light?"_

"_It's called the sun you idiot. Big yellow thing in the sky?"_

"_No this is closer to the ground. Skimming almost. Looks like a…"_

A sudden explosion ripped across the sands as static screamed in Scotts ear, a comrade's GINN exploding nearby, it's tattered remains falling into the ruins of the warehouse it had been examining.

"EVERYBODY DOWN!!" Scotts bellowed as another shell sailed across the wastelands, the nearer explosion of another GINN's arm detonating causing his cockpit to rattle and shake violently, "WE'VE GOT INCOMING!!"

* * *

"Confirmed hit, target destroyed on first shot," Soran grinned in triumph at his handiwork, "Got a little sloppy on the second shot though. Definite loss of combat effectiveness though. One machine down, one disabled. They won't be getting up any time soon,"

"_Roger that," _Marcus nodded in confirmation, _"I'm watching the data as it comes in. We'll adjust the firing program accordingly,"_

"And what should I do about it now?"

"_At present…use your best judgment,"_

Soran chuckled darkly, "You want me to go with my gut?"

"_For now, Yes,"_

"Not a wise choice my friend," the officer spat out his finished cigarette onto the grated floor below, only to pull another from it's box moments later, "But what the hell, why not?"

* * *

"_Dammit, took out two units in the first two shots,"_ Scotts rolled his eyes slightly at his underling's GINN lying next to him, both units searching the landscape for their illusive attacker, _"Was it the enemy GINN?"_

"Not unless the latest rifles pack more of a punch then these things," the commander smirked darkly, "No, we've got a tank on our hands gents. I'd say about ten klicks from here, and both Sanchez and Kilcher were standing still when they got hit. Something tells me the pilot didn't expect this, and that second shot veering off like that…Gents, we're dealing with a machine whose firing adjustments haven't been completed. All units stand by, we're moving out. The bastard's probably moved away by now though," he scowled as he brought up a map of the surrounding area, "Judging from the dunes though…I'd say he only has three possible locations to hide for an ambush. We'll just have to attack these places simultaneously. Yarif, call back Lee and Muroy. They should be in a position soon where they can attack from behind. Conrad, you and Stefan grab those missile attachments and prepare for bombardment. Let's take this wannabe human down!"

* * *

"So, they're finally coming," Demetrius smirked as he kicked the ZuOOT into reverse, "Took them long enough,"  
Despite his smugness, the officer grimaced as the mobile suit rocked under the barrage of missile fire, his machine gun belching bullets across the sky as anti-air as his own cannons returned fire.

"Looks like they're heading towards the second ambush point," he growled, "Peh, amateurs,"

"_Don't get cocky Soran,"_ Westfield scowled, _"You of all people should know what that will do to you in the field. I'm sure your grandfather told you stories right?"_

"I guess _Sarah__'__s _been the one telling tales eh?" the officer grinned, "Figures. I could tell you a few things about her peeps you know. For example…"

He grunted in pain as a shell exploded too near to his machine, the entire mobile suit listing dangerously to one side as Marcus' startled face disappeared into a haze of white static.

"Kid? Kid! Ah blast it," he narrowed his eyes as the last of the rain of shells died down, "Figures they'd hit the communications array. At least the black box will record his precious data. Alright you Alliance scum," Soran smirked as he watched the GINNs slowly approach, "Let's see how good you really are!"

* * *

"_Oh my God, what was that?! The suit's on fire! I can't see! IT'S SO HOT!!"_

"Stefan, calm down," Scotts could only watch as his comrade's machine was engulfed by the flames of the assailant's latest shell, "It wasn't a direct hit, you're suit's not damaged!"  
_"__But I can__'__t see!!__"_The GINN spun around uncontrollably (although admittedly slowly), trying to put out the flames that licked at his machine, _"__It__'__s so hot! It__'__s__…__AGH!!__"__  
_"Stefan!!" Jonathan could only watch as another shell slammed straight through the GINN, it's explosion engulfed in the fire of the previous shot, "Dammit, that guy's taking us down like flies!"

"_Commander, Receiving word from Lee and Mulroy," _Yarif's worried face come up on his comm. Screen, _"They're in position, we have him surrounded!" They also have a visual. Looks like some kind of mobile artillery platform,"_

"Then if we take it all at once, we shouldn't have a problem. Everyone take to the skies! We maybe slow on the ground, but we'll definitely have superiority in the air!"

with a roar of thrusters, six machines took off into the clear blue skies, their rifles ready as they followed the trail of dust of their oncoming attacker.

"I think I see it!" Jonathan cut his engines as he brought his rifle to bear on the crimson machine below, "And it's huge! Fast too," he sniggered at the second path of sand as it plumed up beside the mech, "Or maybe I'm just slow. Doesn't matter," with a ground shaking thud he hit the ground once more, his rifle pounding out shot after shot, "Just take him down!!"

For five whole minutes that chase raged, the unknown enemy swerving and diving through the hail of gunfire on every side, it's four immense cannons firing shells as it's side weapons kept him and his comrades from getting too close.

"_I got you now!" _Yarif's grin could be hear din his voice as he landed behind the machine, _"You can't escape now you worthless hunk of junk!"_

Even from across the battle field, the screech of caterpillar treads being blown clear from their wheels brought a smile to Jonathan's face.

"Nice work Yarif. All units close in on the target. We've got him now,"

"_This is too easy," _Scotts felt a little irk catch in his mind as Yarif tossed aside his rifle in favour of the longsword attached to his back, _"One good hit from this and it's on to that infernal GINN! What the…smoke screen!!"_

Scotts blinked in surprise as a cloud of smoke spread from launchers mounted along the vehicle's side, both the enemy and Yarif disappearing into a haze of dark grey as his comrade uneasily talked to himself.

"_Damn, where did it go? Can't see a bloody thing! Wait what's that? Oh…Oh God…I think…I think it's growing!"_

"Growing? Well this guy's certainly full of surprises," Jonathan smiled grimly, as he poured bullets into the smoky cloud "Yarif fall back, and pick up your rifle on the way out damn you!"

"_Yes sir. I…Look out!"_

A single smaller shot, no doubt from the enemy's wrist mounted cannon, blasted it's way through the grey wall, his own GINN's foot detonating on impact, the entire mobile suit falling to the ground with a bone rattling crash.

With a resounding boom that echoed across the Australian fields, the cloud dispersed as Yarif's entire upper torso simply shattered from the impact of a large shell, the enemy's single blood red eye turning back on Scotts as it stood at it's full height.

Gone was the tank like machine that had been there only moments before, the remains of a caterpillar track being swallowed by the dunes the only indication there had been such a artillery platform in the first place.

In it's stead was a full blown mobile suit. A crimson machine with the original assailant's upper torso, thick legs ending in two toed feet now holding up the giant mech.

Even though he had survived far worse then this, Scotts couldn't help but swallow thickly at the enemy brought his machine gun to bear.

* * *

"Don't know if you'll get this kid, but I've switched to mobile suit mode," Soran grinned as he ran past the first fallen GINN towards another just behind it, parts flying everywhere as an entire magazine was dumped into it's torso, "Just so you know, arm side weapons work like a dream in this mode. Mind if I borrow this?" he smirked as he picked up the cartridge from his foe's fallen rifle, "Didn't think so,"

More bullets belched forth from the ZuOOT's weapons as several shells smashed into another GINN's thigh, the mobile suit crashing into the dirt as another spray of weapons fire caused the massive machine to explode in a cloud of fire.

"Now for the big guns!"

The clatter of discarded weaponry was masked by the whistling roar of heavy artillery shells as a pair screamed across the sandy battlefield towards their target, the GINN's cockpit caving from the impact before exploding in a array of smoke and shrapnel.

"And then there was one," Soran grinned slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck, the ZuOOT's single red eye turning to face his final opponent as it charged forward, rifle blazing, "Time to wake up and smell the death my friend!"

Then he heard it.

A heart wrenching screech of protesting gears, blood red alert signals flashing across his displays.

And what was worse, the left hand leg refused to move.

"Dammit! Shrapnel's lodged in the gears!" the pilot wrenched at his controls violently, "Come on! Move damn you!"

With a hideous crunch, the leg suddenly came clear from it's mooring, the ZuOOT spinning from the sudden release before falling flat on it's side.

"Yes!" Despite his situation Soran couldn't help but grin as the sound of confirmed lock rang in his ears, as the GINN came into one of the cannon's sights with the fall, "Bye bye!"

The cannon fired.

The ZuOOT fell onto it's back.

The shell ripped through the GINN's cockpit and burst out the other side.

Demetrius sighed as he let his head fall back against the headrest.

"That was too close," he groaned sorely as he clenched his cigarettes tightly in shaking hand, his light blue eyes taking in the wreckage of his foes around him, "What a waste,"

Then, something hard hit the cockpit.

* * *

"YOU STUCK UP COORDINATOR BASTARD!!"

Scotts was livid, blow after blow reigned down on the strange mobile suit as he pounded the machine with the GINN's fists.

"My entire team…destroyed! Everything we worked for, gone! And you just sit there as though the battle is won!? This is only the tip of the iceberg my friend! War is coming! And you…" he slammed the rifle barrel first deep into the mech's chest, "Are it's first true victim!"

A single round found itself deeply imbedded in the mobile suit's torso, the arm of the enemey reaching out desperately, as though alive, before falling back into the sandy dunes, it's crimson eye going dark.

Scotts smirked as he pulled the rifle clear with a spray of debris. He was tired, every muscle in his body ached.

But there was still one last problem to take care of before he could rest.

"And now," he primed the rifle, turning his wounded GINN into the sunlight, "It's time to deal with your little friends,"

* * *

The GINN before me pulled itself achingly across the Australian sands, it's damaged right foot dragging a small trench behind it as it tried to get into weapon's range.

I myself had lost my rifle in my haste to catch Michaels from becoming a large bloody stain on the face of Australia, the longsword in my own GINN's hand the only weapon I had.

As I watched this Natural in Coordinator's clothing drag itself into the fray, a part of me wondered what could be going through the pilot's mind. Surely he (or she) didn't think he could win this fight? Even without all the damage sustained, the suit had still been painfully slow, and now I knew it was only a case of dodging bullets until I could get close enough to get at him.

The GINN continued to limp foreword up the dune that separated the two of us, it's rifle glinting in the dying rays of the sun as it finally spotted me, it's single eye flashing in acknowledgment as it brought the weapon to bear.

Then…it exploded.

With a massive boom the chest of the enemy suddenly detonated in a fiery display, the arms and head sent soaring away from the mobile suit as the legs collapsed in a heap.

And as I watched the smoke clear, and the broken armour lost to the winds, the ZuOOT finally fell back, disabled, but victorious.

* * *

He was bleeding profusely, his legs and lower torso nothing more then a mangled bloody mess.

But he had won.

Once more…Westfield had his wretched data. The bigwigs couldn't say no to the ZuOOT now, not after what he had accomplished.

"One shot was enough," despite the pain that wracked his body, he threw the cigarettes threw the hole in his cockpit with a painful chuckle, "Always knew those things wouldn't kill me. It's nice to know…I can still fight, eh ZuOOT?"

The mobile suit didn't reply, nor did he expect it too.

All he heard was the gentle whine of his unit powering down, before the word slowly seemed to dissolve around him, the pain gradually ebbing away…

* * *

Dead.

Demetrius Soran was dead.

Staring at the wreckage of the ZuOOT, it was the only conclusion I could come too.

"He died to save us,"

I blinked down at Michaels as she gazed mournfully at the smouldering remains, her head leaning slightly against my arm.

"I guess…even a decaying solider is redeemable," I glanced down at her superior, her reaction to my words hidden by her silky red hair.

"Maybe you're right Westfield," I felt the pressure of her head against my pilot suit as she leaned in harder against my arm, "Maybe…maybe you're right,"

* * *

Dear Shiho,

I'm starting to wonder if this ship is cursed somehow.

While all tests we've completed since the 603rd was established have ended with a high success rate, any pilot temporarily assigned to us seems to die in the name of evaluation. Aleksandro Simmons was barely a week from his retirement, the age of mobile suits quickly overtaking the big guns he loved so much.

And Demetrius Soran…

Today I conducted tests on the YTFA-2 ZuOOT in Australia with Soran as the pilot. I never imagined we'd put the unit through it's paces so vigorously. All I could do was watch as Soran single-handedly took down a entire GINN squad (Taken by a unknown faction of Naturals), only to fall with a single shell at the very end.

I'm also starting to wonder if all this death will be worth it in the end.

That said, I'm sure Demetrius would have been happy to know the Council has taken into account our revaluation of the ZuOOT, with a fresh batch of mass produced variants rolling off the production line some time next year.

I only hope we never have to use them.

As usual give my love to your parents, and tell my Uncle not to worry. Also…take care of yourself alright? I hope to take some leave sometime next February. Maybe we could meet up on Junius Seven and catch up?

Thinking about you everyday,

My best regards,

Marcus.

* * *

Sorry this took so long to update.

Hope you enjoyed

Reviews always welcome.

Dearing


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